The Fourth Battalion, The King's Own (Royal Lancaster Regiment) and the Great War

Kits were now reduced to the required minimum. Surplus kit was stacked and laid aside—with confidence this time that they would be available on the return of less hectic times. G.S. wagons were laden and limbers filled up to their limit, and the Battalion started off on another pilgrimage, its ultimate destination as yet unknown, but only one conclusion could be drawn from the thorough examination of equipment, and the issue of trench maps delineating the battle-front of the Somme. We made Sombrin on the first day after a tiring and dusty march. On the 22nd July the personnel of the Battalion were conveyed by motor bus to Berneuil, the transport moving independently by road. Here we practised the attack by sectional rushes. Before daylight had set in on the 25th the Battalion was on the march, shaping its course through Fienvillers to Candas where other troops, battle-stained and cheerful, laughed at us through the mud and filth which days of incessant fighting had imprinted on their faces. It was the first visible sign of the great offensive.

We entrained at Candas and crawled slowly away past Montrelet and St. Ouen, following the beautiful valley of the Nievre. Optimistic chatterers maintained that we were now pursuing a course directly opposite to that which ought to take us to the front. They did not know, however, that this branch line united with the main railroad from Abbeville to Albért. And the crossing of the viaduct over the Somme marshes soon brought us to the trunk line leading to the heart of hostilities. To our disappointment the train passed through the fine station of Amiens without stopping, the market gardens slipped by, the little vignettes of Senegalese troops became a blur, Corbie of old acquaintance faded from view, and at 2 o’clock we steamed into railhead, Méricourt-Ribemont.

Those of us who had known Méricourt of old were amazed at the change. Then it had been a sleepy little station with a few sidings and a tent or two for the accommodation of prospective permissionaires. Now it was the busy centre of all the traffic in men and material feeding the firing line in the sector of Albért. Immense stores of provisions and endless piles of ammunition lay stacked ready for transport. German prisoners, mostly unshaven, were engaged in road mending, or were lazily watching the new troops. Under a blazing sun we marched out of the station. Buire-sur-Ancre showed unmistakable signs of activity. Tired men were dragging themselves along the hot, dusty road, traces of recent fighting plain upon their faces. A few attempted to smile. Sweat ran down and grooved the dirt upon their foreheads and cheeks. Many lacked full equipment. Battalions came out under the command of subalterns, careworn and ageing. Limbers and wagons were rushing up towards the line with food for the men and ammunition for the guns. In happy contrast to the stricken remnants returning from battle were our fresh troops pouring in as reinforcements.

From Méricourt we marched to Méaulte, near Albért, where the Town Major had a particularly trying experience in accommodating Battalion after Battalion in a very restricted area. Confusion at such a time and place, however, was unavoidable. We now formed part of the 13th Corps, Fourth Army. On the 26th we marched to Happy Valley, a comparatively quiet backwater, and took over bivouacs from a Battalion of the 8th Brigade, 3rd Division. Here four days were spent in training under Company arrangements, including much-needed bathing parades to Bray-sur-Somme. There was also an overdue presentation of decorations by Brigadier-General Edwards. There had been a good many individual exploits, thoroughly meriting recognition, and, indeed, recommended for such, which were met with disapproval by the authorities on the ground that the time was “inopportune,” and it was not until many more months had passed that decorations began to flow with more facility. An enemy aeroplane dropped bombs on the valley, but there were no casualties amongst our men.

On the night of 30th/31st July the Battalion marched north and took over trenches on a line running north and south between Trones Wood and Guillemont, relieving remnants of the 30th Division. In taking up position we were heavily shelled, losing Second-Lieut. Lincey and three other ranks killed and twelve wounded. Our artillery bombarded heavily all day, and we spent the day digging in, including a shallow German trench in their old line. The immensity of the push was now apparent to us, and our eyes opened in astonishment at the awful havoc of the guns. We, who had seen over twelve months’ service, astonished! A giant of steel seemed to have ridden over the proud German defences. Villages were wiped completely out of existence—Fricourt, Mametz, Carnoy, Maricourt, Montauban, all a tumbled heap of rubble; woods were laid waste. Saddest of all there was not a blade of green grass visible. Trenches were everywhere blown out of recognition. In every direction disused gun pits with piles of empty shell cases showed how the artillery had advanced. Disrupted sandbags littered the broken earth. A poignant reminder that victory is not purchased without cost lay in the newly-delved earth, where blue flags were fluttering over the dead.

The transport lay in bivouac in what had been German lines between Fricourt and Maricourt. From this point of vantage much of the terrible drama was visible. Not an inch of ground but was covered by war material and troops resting. Mametz Road presented an unparalleled scene of activity. Never for an instant was it idle. There were up-roads and down-roads everywhere. Ammunition, food, guns went up the one in constant streams; wounded and fatigued men, empty ammunition and ration limbers, came rolling back on the other. Whenever any portion of the road showed signs of wear, either by shell fire or natural attrition, gangs of men from labour battalions set to work, metalling and restoring. These men were nearly all over age. They had none of the hot glory of conflict. To them fell no stirring battle honours. Yet who but must admire the spirit that sent these gallant veterans into the zone of shell fire.

The view of the fighting from the actual front was, of necessity, local. But here a much broader outlook was possible. Looking down Mametz valley—“Death Valley” as it was colloquially known—towards Montauban on the left and Trones Wood on the right centre, a mile away, the immense superiority of our guns in the first place struck the observer. The guns were everywhere, “ubique” indeed. They were literally wheel to wheel. Recalling those dark days of 1915, when we asked for support, and asked in vain, it made one’s heart rejoice, with a strange exultation to see those inexhaustible stacks of shells and to hear the incessant roaring of the guns.

And then one could not fail to be impressed with our mastery of the air. How effectively the enemy had been blinded became daily more obvious. The hum of aircraft rung in the ears as the guns slackened. All day long the droning battleplane wheeled over the scene of carnage. Reconnoitring planes flew backwards and forwards with information of enemy masses, train movements and gun positions. The more humble contact planes hung a few hundred feet over the advancing troops and reported progress to the artillery. They flew unperturbed over the avalanche of our own shells. Whenever an objective was attained by our infantry coloured flares ascended and the contact aeroplane immediately conveyed the intelligence to the gunners, who lengthened their range and prepared the ground for further advance.

Not only in aeroplanes were we seemingly supreme. Observational work by aircraft was necessarily hasty and brief. It was the captive balloon that supplied the more detailed and continuous information. These balloons were connected to earth by telephone. As many as twenty-five could be counted swinging lazily in the breeze. Indeed, the increasing salient of our battle-front, as we bit deeper and deeper into the German defences, could be gauged by the wide crescent of these aerial outposts.

Not only above, but underneath, had this amazing tornado passed. Our human moles had burrowed with an uncanny sense of direction right underneath those ingeniously contrived German subterranean passages. They had prepared—with an immense amount of patience, self-sacrifice and danger, daring not only detection by the enemy, but the far more insidious peril of poison gas—mines beside which those at La Boisselle shrunk into pettiness. And then, in a moment, by the mere pressure of an electric button, in a mighty convulsion they had overwhelmed all those galleries and caverns where the enemy was cowering under the avalanche of our shells.

“Death Valley” then was now the centre of this hellish activity. Blinded as they were the Germans poured a prodigal amount of ammunition into it, and they had their own old positions ranged to a nicety. And it is easy to understand how effective such a mass of fire could be, when this was the only avenue by which rations could be brought up to the infantry or ammunition for the guns. One would see a G.S. waggon, pair of horses and driver, careering down this Satanic road with ammunition, a stray shell, and blankness—nothing to mark the event but an additional shell-hole, which the devoted labour corps hurried out like solicitous ants to investigate and repair. In spite of the frightful punishment the enemy were undergoing at our hands, inaction could never be laid to their charge. Each day saw their defences, so seriously threatened, grow more formidable. Their pioneers were tireless. Their “Betontruppen,” specialists in the erection of concrete machine gun emplacements, or “strong points,” and their “Hollenbankommandos,” for the construction of dugouts, were organizing a newly-formed system of trenches on a scale of great magnitude, and with the invaluable accessories of strong points. Trenches, wired and traversed, emerged in a single night. The favourable features of the ground were everywhere transformed into miniature fortresses of amazing strength, from whose loop-holed bastions machine guns in countless numbers pushed their deadly muzzles.

The sector of trenches occupied by us lay on the extreme right of the British position, before Guillemont. On our right were the 156th Regiment of Infantry, 10th Corps, French Army, and on our left the 8th Liverpools. Guillemont was marked for early attack, but the time was not yet. Artillery activity on both sides was continuous. The enemy appeared to be nervous. At 8.30 p.m. on 1st August “B” Company attacked an advanced German strong point with one platoon. This platoon was hung up and forced to retire, owing to enemy barrage, which was very severe. At 8.45 p.m. another platoon went forward under Second-Lieut. A. J. Brockman and was completely successful. We had previously dislodged the enemy with Stokes Mortar bombs, and as they were retreating in large numbers (apparently the enemy was massing for an attack) our artillery barrage caught them and inflicted very severe casualties on them. Our casualties were slight, Second-Lieut. Rudduck being wounded. In this brisk encounter communication by telephone lasted for exactly an hour under a most severe and accurate enemy shelling. In the early morning of 3rd August the Battalion was relieved by the 4th Loyals and moved into Brigade Reserve, in Dublin and Casement trenches, in front of Maricourt, that is, to the rear of the Mametz valley.

The enemy shelled the left of our trenches but did not cause any damage. We found some fatigue parties, including two for the front line. On the night of the 4th we were relieved by the 5th Liverpools, of the 165th Brigade, and proceeded to bivouacs south of Carnoy and west of Bronfay Farm. The weather was very hot and the next three days were spent quietly with bayonet fighting, physical drill and bathing parades. At 6 p.m. on the 7th sudden orders were received, and at 8.15 p.m. the Battalion left bivouacs and proceeded to trenches near Arrow Head Copse, in sector south of Trones Wood and Guillemont Road. There was an awful congestion of troops in the Sunken Road, but, fortunately, no shelling, and the Battalion did not have a single casualty during the relief, which was completed by 1 a.m., when preparations were made for the attack on Guillemont.

The order of battle from right to left was “D,” “A,” “B” and “C” Companies. At 3.45 a.m. on 8th August the first line, consisting of two platoons of each Company, crept out in front of the advanced trench, at the same time the remainder of the Battalion occupied the advanced trench. At 4.10 the first line advanced a short way and waited four minutes. Second line left the trench and took up a position twenty yards in rear of the first line. The second line was closely followed by two platoons of the 4th Loyals as carrying party. At 4.15 the enemy placed a very violent barrage of artillery fire (shrapnel) on the fire trench. The first and second lines crept forward closer to our own barrage to escape enemy fire. At 4.20 the Battalion went forward again and the first line immediately came under heavy bomb fire. This was absolutely unexpected, caused heavy casualties, and the attack was arrested. The enemy then opened very heavy machine gun and rifle fire, which caught the second line as it came up to reinforce the first line.

Further advance being impossible, owing to uncut wire, the Battalion retired out of bombing distance from the German trench and started to dig in, fifty yards in front of our original trench. These operations occupied twenty minutes. The enemy maintained a very heavy barrage of shrapnel on the Sunken Road during the whole of this time. The only means of communication during this time, with the exception of one Company, to which the telephone wire was intact, was by runner. Communication with the Battalion on the left was completely lost. It was ascertained that this Battalion was reported to be in the village of Guillemont, and it was intended to make an attempt to get into touch with their right. Stokes Mortars were brought up and were ordered to destroy the barricade on the Sunken Road leading to Guillemont, with the idea of attacking and taking this point and which would have enabled an advance on the left to be covered. There was a great deal of delay in bringing up the Stokes Mortar ammunition, the difficulties of communication were great, and it made it extremely hard for orders to reach their destination. This delay gave the enemy a long period of rest, which was unfavourable to the success of any further enterprise.

The Stokes Mortars bombarded the barricade, but were not successful in damaging it. It was intended that a bombing party should assault at 12 noon, but the situation was seen to be quite hopeless for the success of such an enterprise.

Our artillery, in the meantime, kept up an intermittent bombardment for a long period. They were firing very short and our front line had to be cleared. It was with the greatest difficulty that the artillery were informed of this, which caused some casualties to the Battalion. It was decided that any further attack was impracticable and efforts were concentrated on improving the present position as far as possible and to render it easily defensible in the event of any hostile offensive. The Battalion was by this time greatly reduced in numbers and was also fatigued by the strain of the heavy fighting. There was a shortage of Officers. It was not known what had happened to the Battalion on the left, and although all effort was made to ascertain their position no information was obtainable. It was impossible to obtain accurate information, which made the situation worse. The remainder of the night was spent in trying to collect wounded, improve our original position, and clear the battlefield. At 3.55 a.m. on the 9th we were relieved by the 10th Liverpool Scottish and proceeded, sorely stricken and almost unmanned by the terrific strain of the recent fighting and the shambles around us, to bivouac south-west of Carnoy.

The Battalion arrived in small parties. Stragglers came in during the day. Captain Huthwaite, of the charmed life, wandering about like a distracted shepherd looking for his flock, collected a number of these and brought them in. A roll call was made with lamentable results, disclosing eight Officers killed, including the Commanding Officer, and nine wounded; 254 other ranks, including 48 killed and 206 wounded and missing. The Officers were:—

Killed.

Wounded.

The loss of the Commanding Officer was a stunning blow. Although he had only been with us six weeks his influence on the Battalion was marked and beneficent. We found ourselves guided by a firm hand, directed with understanding. It was not given to every regular Officer at that time to see eye to eye with the aspirations and latent qualities of the Territorial Army. Captain Jackson, our late Adjutant, had possessed this rare faculty and was ready to admit and proclaim that in some essential military respects, of which trench-digging was only one, the Territorial Army could more than hold its own. Colonel Swainson was another with this gift of insight, and with his regular experience, his knowledge of what to do, and perhaps more important, what not to do, the Battalion seemed set for a period of what can best be termed happy soldiering, when he met his untimely end. The Command now devolved upon Major G. B. Balfour.

For many days no recollection of these horrors was permitted to diminish the enthusiasm of the Division. Concerts were held nightly. On the bare slopes near Carnoy the infantry, worn out by their recent trials, engaged themselves in innocent relaxation.

The theatre party of the Division, under our own Lieut. Leslie, addressed themselves to their congenial offices with a diligence no less justified of the times than it was deserving of support. Blood had freely flowed and would flow again as freely. In the meantime no dejection of spirits must be allowed to usurp the place of contentment and good cheer. The guns were still ranged solidly against the enemy and pulverising his trenches. His own artillery, admittedly well-handled, was redoubling its opposition. More and more troops, eager to win renown, and excited by the unwonted activity, were pouring up towards the line. Defeated and despairing, the Germans, stung to a paroxysm of frenzy, were hurling themselves on their lost positions. Forfeitures of ground, privations unproclaimed, renunciation of hope, submission and subjugation—all these things they had been taught to abhor. And now, as we forced them to accept adversity, they resisted with fierce courage.

The weather continued very hot. On the following day the remnants of the Battalion paraded by companies for inspection, re-organisation and checking deficiencies in equipment. Major-General Jeudwine, commanding the Division, inspected us and cheered us by his very austerity. A working party of one Officer and 70 other ranks went into the front line to dig forward communication trenches. They were heavily shelled by enemy artillery but only two casualties were caused. We observed one of our forward trench balloons break away from its moorings and sail away over the enemy lines. The occupant was equal to the occasion and got out of his difficulties by the aid of a parachute. On the 14th we left bivouacs at Carnoy and marched to Méricourt with the Brigade, via Sand Pit, Meaulte, Ville-sur-Ancre Treux, the transport travelling under Brigade arrangements via Bray-sur-Somme.

The Battalion rested in billets in Méricourt, the time being spent in refitting, re-organisation and steady drill. Bathing, too, received attention, the weather being still very hot. A draft of 100 other ranks from the 3/10th Manchester Regiment joined us and proved a good lot of men. For the present the Division was not to be re-engaged on the Somme, and at 4 a.m. on the 19th the Battalion paraded at Méricourt Station and entrained for Abbeville, arriving at 11.30 a.m. Time did not admit of the hoped-for coffee and omelette at the “Bull’s Head,” and at 11.40 we were off again on the march, over the bridge leading to the south side of the Somme, through Rouvroy and Cambron, until at 4 p.m. we arrived in billets at Lambercourt.

We shall never forget that sweet corner of France. The fresh profusion of green grass and yellow stubble, the prodigal wealth and variety of arboreal treasures with abundant foliage, fruit trees laden with their gracious burden. The scattered houses of the village, nestling within bowers of roses and other sweet-smelling flowers, a thin blue reek ascending from some chimney in a thatched roof. Sharply and suddenly contrasted with the din and horror we had left so recently these quiet scenes brought tears to the eyes and a sense of realisation that a beneficent Power was still in charge of human destiny.

A cavalry regiment had been dislodged in order that the P.B.I. might have a fleeting respite in this corner of paradise. Whence they had departed was a matter of conjecture, probably to another delectable billet, as their turn had not yet come in the maelstrom. For ten days the Battalion enjoyed the seclusion of this peaceful retreat. The time was given over to platoon training, whilst drafts of reinforcements continued to arrive. On the 23rd all Officers and N.C.O.’s attended a lecture at Brigade Headquarters, given by General Jeudwine, on the recent operations. A pleasing feature at this time was the special short leave granted to small parties to St. Valery-sur-Somme and Tréport. These were delightful little watering-places on the estuary of the Somme, and it was whispered that the delights of a casino awaited visitors to either place. Plans were in preparation to extend these privileges to Paris, when the bolt fell from the blue and the Battalion again turned its face to the east.

At 11.15 p.m. on August 29th we left Lambercourt in light marching order, the men’s packs having been despatched separately by motor lorry, and marched via Cambron, Rouvroy, St. Marguerite, Mareuil, Bray-les-Mareuil and Duncq to Pont Remy, where we arrived at 5 a.m. and had breakfast. Entraining and leaving Pont Remy at 8 o’clock we passed through Amiens and Corbie and arrived at Méricourt-Ribemont at 11.40 a.m., on the inner edge of hostilities once more. The Battalion moved to a point adjoining the main Albert-Corbie road where billets in tents and hutments awaited us. The weather was now unfavourable. Ten Officer reinforcements joined from the base. Battalion training occupied us during our stay in billets, and at midnight on September 7th we moved into trenches in Montauban Alley, where we were in Brigade reserve, relieving the 1st South Staffords. On the 10th the Battalion moved up and helped to man our front line trenches in Delville Wood, after the failure of a previous attack. Here the Companies were all split up and it was difficult to acquire accurate information. At 6 p.m. orders were received from Brigade to carry out an attack by surprise at 5.15 a.m. on to Hop Alley and German trenches on the western side of Delville Wood. This attack was duly carried out with “D” Company on left flank, “A” and “B” Companies in the centre, and “C” Company on the right. All ranks were dead tired and there was no dash in the attack, which failed directly the Germans opened with machine gun and rifle fire. Our casualties in this encounter were not very heavy, but Lieut. E. Spearing, commanding “D” Company, and Second-Lieut. G. R. Glenie, Lewis Gun Officer, were both missing and were later found to have been killed in action. The remainder of the 11th and 12th was spent in holding the front line, which was heavily shelled, causing heavy casualties. We were relieved by the 8th King’s Royal Rifles and returned to bivouac at Becourt.

On the 13th the Battalion marched to Ribemont and bivouacked in canvas shelters. Four officers reported here for duty, including Captain R. Gardner, who rejoined the Battalion on recovery from his unlucky adventure with a Very light some months previously, and Second-Lieut. T. H. Middleton, having been appointed to a commission from Sergeant-Signaller. From Ribemont to Buire, where we found comfortable billets for both officers and men, and where we saw 850 German prisoners being marched to the rear. The 17th, being Sunday, we attended a Brigade Church Parade, when the Padre’s sermon was based on St. Peter “warming himself at the fire,” with personal reminiscences of training in England during the early days of the war. From Buire to Becordel, where we went into bivouacs in drenching rain near Mametz prisoners’ camp.

The new bivouacs were devoid of any comfort whatsoever. A few shelters were improvised for the night, but very few enjoyed satisfactory shelter. Funkholes were dug at irregular intervals, in case the enemy opened artillery fire. In the murky and rainy night, when men arrived in driblets from heavy working parties, covered with mud from head to foot, limping with fatigue, and hungry as only men are hungry when much strenuous labour is required, there were often no means of showing these poor wretches the many pitfalls that lay in their path. Stumbling over the tangle of brushwood and falling into the soft oozy mud lining the bottom of the funkholes, I have heard them groping blindly for shelter, swearing roundly at everything. But I have never failed to hear them sing when, under equal conditions, they have found a few inches of tarpaulin ready to shield them from the bitter cold, or a scattering of straw to serve as their pallet. One is apt to grumble at home over little things. Let him not grumble till he has passed a night under such conditions as these.

Our front line had advanced considerably, and the next area of operations was Longueval and Flers, well in front of Delville Wood. After Holy Communion on the 24th the Battalion proceeded to occupy reserve trenches known as Green Trench and King’s Walk. Officers reconnoitred the lines of approach to Flers, and Second-Lieut. Beazley was wounded. Our bombardment developed in severity, and on the 26th orders were received to move forward, three platoons to strong points at the end of Cove Alley and one company and one platoon to Smoke Trench, while Battalion Headquarters moved up to east of Flers.

On the 27th the 55th Division resumed active operations. The 8th Liverpool Irish were detailed to assault and capture Gird and Gird Support trenches, and the 4th King’s Own to furnish the fifth wave in attack. Parties carried R.E. material for making strong points to Grove Alley and Gird Support trenches. The trench was easily captured by the 8th Liverpools, and the carrying parties carried out their duties successfully and without casualties. These parties then occupied a position on Factory Corner—Gueudecourt Road, keeping in touch on the left with the 4th King’s Own. Arrangements were made later to relieve the 8th Liverpool Irish in the captured trenches. Several casualties were sustained in a bombardment subsequent to the attack. At 2 a.m. on the 28th the 4th King’s Own took over Gird and Gird Support trenches from the 8th Liverpools. The trenches were heavily bombarded during the day by the enemy. Three patrols with Lewis guns were sent out to locate the German position and harass a working party which had been seen earlier in the morning. At 2 a.m. on the 29th the Battalion was relieved in the trenches by the Royal West Surreys and re-assembled at Mametz, where a contretemps all but ended in minor disaster. The Quartermaster had been handed over a paragon of bivouacs in the form of tents, one of the best we had experienced, and was keeping watch and ward over this treasure, when he was horrified to see a battalion of New Zealanders descend upon him like the Assyrians of old, or the plague of locusts, and take possession. Protests from a mere Quartermaster of Infantry were met with airy nonchalance. Other and prompt steps had to be taken. Olivette was saddled and made short work of the journey to Brigade Headquarters, where a sympathetic Staff Captain got busy, wires were set sizzling, and the anxious Quartermaster eventually had the satisfaction of seeing these unconventional soldiers march out of one end of the camp as his precious Battalion hobbled in at the other, happily unconscious of their narrow escape from homelessness. We moved thence to very crowded billets in Dernacourt.

This was to be the close of our memorable association with the Somme, for the present, at any rate. The approach of winter placed an insuperable barrier on hopes of much further advance. Progress had been definite, if it had not met the most sanguine expectations, but the courageous tenacity and marvellous organization of the enemy revealed the magnitude of the task yet to be completed.